


coup de grâce

by narrativefoiltrope



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, bobby gets what's coming to him lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narrativefoiltrope/pseuds/narrativefoiltrope
Summary: for the 31 days of wayhaven challenge on tumblr, prompt: apology.in college, pandora kingston (f!detective) finds out that bobby plagiarised an essay of hers and he gets what’s coming to him. bonus: some of pandora’s backstory!
Relationships: Detective/Bobby Marks, Female Detective/Bobby Marks
Kudos: 5





	coup de grâce

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first wayhaven fic, and the first time I’m writing about my detective, pandora, who is currently driving adam insane :’)

“Sorry angel,” Bobby began as he entered the dorm room and ran a hand through his hair. He sauntered over to Pandora, who stood looking out the window onto the small university quad with every single muscle tensed, hands balled up into fists at her sides. “But it’s not like you even want to be a writer—I need this A in Strategies for Mass Communication more than you.” He snaked an arm around Pandora’s waist and pressed a wet, patronising kiss to her cheek.

His touch felt like oil on her skin: slick, oppressive, polluting. He would engulf her, swallow her up, if she let him. This had always been their dynamic: His cloying words spilling out of his mouth like gasoline and her temper striking the match that set everything ablaze—including herself. It used to be hot; now it just hurt.

Pandora roughly pushed away and whirled on him. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me, Bobby? You’ve done some questionable shit since we’ve been together, but never to me. Serves me right for thinking I was the exception,” she spat. She stormed over to her nightstand to get a hair tie and gathered her long red hair into a ponytail to keep her hands occupied. _Better than strangling him,_ she thought. 

Match: lit. 

“Don’t be like that, angel,” he cooed, slinking closer to her. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t exactly object to my ‘questionable’ behaviour.” He cocked his head, what he always did before making a particularly biting remark, and said, “Plus, I’m not the one with a criminal record. Who do you think they’re going to believe?” 

Fire: started. 

Of fucking course he would bring up that up now. Pandora’s adolescence was not one she was proud of (anymore, at least). Being the only child of a dead dad and absent mother meant she used increasingly…disruptive means of getting attention. It landed her 17-year-old ass in juvenile detention for breaking and entering, and landed her 21-year-old ass in jail last summer for stealing her mother’s work car. 

Bobby watched with barely concealed anticipation for her reaction. He loved it when she made a scene—yelling, getting in his face, pulling at her hair or his (he really loved that)—especially because more often than not those scenes ended with the two of them in bed. 

She wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Not anymore. 

With a surprising amount of self-control, Pandora willed herself to release the tension that laced her muscles. She let out a heavy breath, laughed lightly, and walked closer to Bobby with a smirk on her face. Reaching up to gently cup his cheek, she hummed before purring, “I guess you _are_ right, babe. That paper is yours now. I’ll figure it out, I always do.” She mirrored the sloppy kiss he gave her earlier, leaving deep red lipstick on his cheek, and headed over to the tiny kitchen, leaving him momentarily speechless. 

After an uncharacteristic moment of silence, Bobby snapped out of it and called after her, “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, angel?” 

A week later—a week filled with meetings with the university’s Academic Integrity team—Pandora was filling in more paper work in the vestibule of the Student Conduct office and chatting with the secretary—Janet—who she was on a first name basis with by now. She looked up at the clock on the wall. 12:27pm. Any minute now. 

A boardroom door opened and Bobby walked out into the office’s vestibule, followed closely by the Dean of Students. In place of his normally smug expression was something Pandora hadn’t seen on him before: Fear. 

He did a double-take when he saw her. “Angel? What are you doing here?” 

“Mr. Marks, we really need you to fill in this form confirming the terms of your suspension as soon as possible; you’ll have to vacate your dorm today,” Janet said loudly, throwing Pandora a conspiratorial look. She made a mental note to send the secretary some flowers for letting her know when his hearing would finish; she was going to replay this moment over and over again.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that it took Bobby a beat to figure out that Pandora was the one responsible for his plagiarism suspension; he really wasn’t the brightest, even if he could speak well. Well, she didn’t become a (vaguely successful) delinquent without learning how to handle people, without learning how to sweet talk her way out of (most) situations. This most recent coup was her greatest victory by far. 

Pandora handed her own paper work to Janet, adjusted her backpack, and threw Bobby a dazzling smile as she headed out of the office. 

“Sorry, babe.”


End file.
